


Care

by postweather



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-09
Updated: 2012-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-08 17:33:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postweather/pseuds/postweather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years ago, Blaine Anderson was in a car accident that paralyzed him, thus ruining his romantic chances---or so he thought, before his new caretaker Kurt Hummel came into the picture</p>
            </blockquote>





	Care

**Author's Note:**

> (based on a prompt from the kink meme)

"Mr. Hummel, I'm so sorry to hear about Patrick."

Kurt smiled forcefully and took a seat opposite of Marcia, the social worker in charge of giving him his assignments.

"It was a good run," Kurt said. "It was his time to go, I guess."

"It's hard work," Marcia said, shaking her head. "I wish I could tell you it gets easier. But I will say that whenever we asked, Patrick said you were a great worker, and you helped him very much."

Kurt nodded, this time not bothering with a smile. It was too much to pretend to smile, not when the heaviness of yet another death was set in the middle of his chest, and the nerves that came with every new assignment wouldn't let up. "So, what have you got for me now?"

"It's a younger man, this time, we figured you'd might like that. His name's Blaine. He's about your age, actually."

"Oh, I—I guess that sounds nice." Kurt knew what to expect with old people—he had been working with them since he had graduated high school. People his own age were another story.

"He was paralyzed in a car accident when he was 18, two years ago, and he's out of school right now—I suspect his parents just want someone to spend time with him."

"That's sad," Kurt said, scrunching his nose slightly. The people he had worked with before were so old they could barely function on their own, but the loneliness of it all was what he had the hardest time dealing with. Once he learned that he could help with that, everything else seemed a lot easier to tackle.

"That's why I figured you'd be a good match for Blaine. You're both around the same age. Maybe you could two could be friends."

Kurt forced another smile. He didn't think there was a way a caretaker could be a real friend to the person they were providing care for—it was a job. But, he cared about the people he worked for, and even if this Blaine kid looked a bit different from his normal cases, he'd give it his best shot. Sometimes all people need is someone to talk to.

* * *

"Oh, honey—the boy is here."

"Uh. Yes. Hello. Mrs. Anderson?"

"That's me. You're Kurt?"

Kurt nodded.

"Come in, come in, Blaine's in the kitchen, eating breakfast. Are you hungry?"

"I already ate, thank you."

Mrs. Anderson straightened out the gold bracelets on her wrists and lightly grazed a hand against her perfectly coifed black hair. "Well, welcome. I imagine the agency has gone over the protocol ? The last nurse we had was a thief."

"This is about my fourth assignment, Mrs. Anderson."

"What happened with the others?"

Kurt coughed a little. "Uh, they all died."

"Oh," Mrs. Anderson said, stopping in the doorway of the kitchen. "Blaine, this is Kurt. Don't die on him."

Blaine looked up glumly from a bowl of cereal, not bothering to look at Kurt at all. "I'll try."

"We're joking," Mrs. Anderson said. "He won't die."

"Yes. I didn't think he would," Kurt said, offering another smile as Mrs. Anderson waved her goodbyes, grabbed her purse, and went off to work.

They were alone. Blaine put his spoon down and looked at him, but said nothing. "Hi, Blaine," Kurt said. He pulled a seat at the table and sat down across from him. "That's a nice name."

"Thank you," Blaine said quietly, staring down at his bowl. "So's Kirk."

"Yes. But my name's Kurt."

"Oh," Blaine said, blushing. "That's a nice name, too." He fell silent again. "I—"

"Are you done? Would you like some more? I can cook, you know, so if you want to treat me like a chef, be my guest," Kurt said, with a smile.

"No—no, I'm done, thank you."

Kurt got up and cleared the dishes in front of Blaine obediently. He saw now that all his worries about working for someone his age were unfounded—Blaine was obviously painfully shy, and not at all like the kids he had known in high school. "I know the first day is always sort of awkward, but I think we'll have fun together, Blaine," Kurt said, sitting down again. "How old was your last—um, assistant?"

"She was a middle aged woman. She stole my dad's watch. Or so my mother said."

Kurt laughed. "I won't do that, I promise. But we're about the same age, aren't we? We must have more in common that you did with that woman. Why don't you tell me about yourself?"

Blaine took an uncomfortably long time to respond, as if he were searching his mind for an acceptable answer and couldn't find one. "I—I like music."

"Oh, I like music, too! Do you like musicals? No, you probably don't like musicals, I'm the only guy I know who likes musicals."

"No! I love musicals," Blaine said, looking up slightly, barely meeting Kurt's gaze for a small second.

"That's great! See? We'll have so much fun. I used to be in glee club in high school, I know all sort of theatrical dance routines, just like in musicals. I can teach you some, if you'd like."

"Oh, glee club. Me too," Blaine said softly. He grasped the arm of his wheelchair as if becoming aware of it again, and shook his head. "But I had to quit after the accident. I don't think I could."

"Of course you can! I have a friend named Artie who has a similar injury. He was a great dancer."

"I don't know."

"Okay, okay, I won't push you. We're just getting to know each other. We have lots of time," Kurt said with a friendly grin.

Blaine looked up and his face seemed caught, having looked at Kurt's face straight-on for the first time. Kurt met his gaze, and shrugged slightly, giving himself permission. Hey, when was the next time he would get an assignment that was flirt-worthy? "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No," Blaine said.

"A boyfriend?"

"No. Is it obvious?"

Kurt laughed. "No. But do you see how I tricked that out of you? Don't worry, you're in good company. And now we have one more thing in common. Now," he said, in order to change the subject and prevent a possibly unprofessional scene, "it's beautiful outside. Would you like to go for a walk?"

"That would be nice," Blaine said.

"Then let's go." Kurt stood up and got behind Blaine, giving him a friendly, assuring squeeze of the shoulder before he started to push the chair out of the room. Blaine tensed up slightly at the contact, but once they were outside of the house, he seemed to relax a little as Kurt pushed him leisurely on the sidewalk.

The park was empty except for some kids and their moms. Kurt sat on the edge of a bench, with Blaine's chair parked by his side. The day was cloudy and slightly cold; Kurt felt rather tired, sitting there with this shy boy. He always felt overwhelmed at the beginning of a case, trying to gauge the person's personality to make them as comfortable with him as possible.

"So, Blaine," Kurt said in a falsely cheerful tone. "You aren't in school. Is that right?" It was probably the wrong question to ask - but depending on how Blaine reacted, Kurt could tell how sensitive he was about the condition of his life at the moment.

"Uh, no. I mean, yes. It's right. I graduated high school a couple of years ago."

"Oh, nice. Have you thought about college?"

Blaine shrugged half-heartedly and looked away.

"I started this job as a way to save up money so I could go to New York and study theater," Kurt offered, laughing bitterly.

"Oh."

"I'll get there. It just takes a while. There's nothing wrong with that. You know?"

Blaine nodded like he knew.

"Anyway. Everything's a lot harder for you," Kurt said. "I want to help you." Blaine cringed before Kurt could add, "Not that you need my help."

They both fell silent and Kurt offered to walk them back to the house.

* * *

A few weeks went by and Kurt was beginning to think there was no real reason for him to be visiting Blaine on a daily basis. The boy was pretty much independent and fully capable of taking care of himself. The main problem, it seemed, was his confidence. Technically, confidence building wasn't what Kurt was being paid for, but he refused to take anyone's money without making himself fully useful.

One especially hot summer day, Kurt wheeled Blaine back inside from one of their walks, and he noticed that Blaine had sweated through his t-shirt.

"You need to change," Kurt said. Blaine nodded and pushed himself towards his bedroom. "Do you need help?"

"No. I can dress myself."

"Sorry. I know. It's my job to offer to help you, though."

Blaine smiled kindly and shut the door behind him. Every time Kurt got a smile out of him felt like a victory. "I'm gonna take a shower," Blaine yelled through the door.

"Okay. Yell if you need me."

Kurt busied himself by cleaning the kitchen while he waited for Blaine to finish. Again, not in his job description, but he hated to sit down on the job. After about forty minutes went by, Kurt realized that he didn't hear any water running, and a jolt of worry rushed through him. He went into Blaine's room and pressed his ear against the bathroom door, listening in to the silence inside before knocking tentatively. "Blaine?"

There was no answer. Kurt sighed and opened the door to find Blaine immersed in the bathtub, ear buds blasting, his iPod sitting precariously on the edge of the tub. At the sight of Kurt, Blaine jerked slightly, sending his iPod to the floor.

"Woah," Kurt said. "You're lucky that didn't fall in the water."

"What are you doing in here?"

"I was just checking up on you," Kurt said, looking away from Blaine, trying his best to avoid any awkwardness that looking at him would cause. He picked the iPod up from the bathroom rug and offered it to Blaine, who shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'll leave."

"No. It's okay. You were just doing your job."

"I thought you were going to take a shower, is all."

"I was. But then I thought a bath would be nice. I hate that stupid shower chair I have to sit on."

Kurt smiled. "I see."

Blaine sighed. "You must be super bored. I'm sorry. I should let you do more things for me."

Kurt laughed. "Well, I could keep you company."

Blaine hesitated, but eventually he nodded, and Kurt sat on the rug, pressing himself against the wall at such an angle that he couldn't see over the tub and into the water even if he wanted to.

"Don't feel self-conscious. I see my clients naked all the time. It's what I get paid for."

Blaine laughed stiffly. "That seems like a nice job."

"Oh, with you it is. Everyone else I worked with were nowhere near as cute as you are, god bless their souls." Blaine giggled, covering his mouth with his hands, and Kurt blushed. "I'm sorry, I'm being unprofessional."

"No. It's okay. I…I don't mind. Not a lot of people ever make me laugh. It's nice. People don't normally call me cute, either," Blaine said thoughtfully, fingering the label of the shampoo bottle which was sitting on the ledge next to him.

"Aw, that's a shame," Kurt said seriously. "You're very cute."

"Stop it," Blaine said, his cheeks a bright red. "Anyway, I should probably get out, the water's getting cold."

"Okay. Do you need me to help you?"

"No. Just…turn around while I dry off and get dressed. Then I'll put you to work, pushing me out of the room."

"Thank you for thinking of me," Kurt said demurely as he spun around to stare at the tile on the opposite wall.

Kurt heard the sound of Blaine pulling the plug out of the tub and pulling himself out of the water. A few seconds later he heard a small yelp and the sound of Blaine slipping from the edge of the tub onto the floor, his wheelchair pushing away from him.

"Oh, no, don't-" Kurt spun around. "Turn around," Blaine finished.

"Hey, relax," Kurt said. He grabbed another nearby towel. The one he had given Blaine before had luckily fallen directly into his lap.

"I don't fall a lot," Blaine insisted, tying the towel around his waist.

"I know, I know. It's me. I made you nervous, I'm sorry."

"You didn't-"

"I mean, having someone else in the room. That's enough to make anybody slip."

"Sure," Blaine said miserably.

"I'm gonna pick you up now."

"No, please, I can do it myself…"

"I know you can. I'm just helping you. Okay?"

Blaine nodded and allowed Kurt to hoist him back up to the edge of the tub. He sat next to him and began toweling him off quickly. He could feel Blaine trembling under his hands and he knew this kind of helplessness was torture for him. "All done." He pulled the chair back to the edge of the tub and lifted Blaine into it. Kurt handed him his clothes and turned around as he dressed in his chair.

"So much for thinking I'm cute now, right?" Blaine said sadly as Kurt pushed him into the living room for the afternoon game of scrabble.

"Yeah," Kurt agreed. "Now that I've seen your body I'm pretty sure you're totally hot," he said nonchalantly. Blaine's jaw dropped and Kurt smiled at him. "Are you in the mood for ice cream? I'm kind of in the mood for ice cream."

* * *

It was a few weeks later, and the embarrassment that Blaine suffered seemed to ease. He was now more talkative and more prone to making jokes, which made Kurt incredibly happy now that he had taken it upon himself to consider it his job to make Blaine Anderson smile as much as possible. There were other things, too. Like the pants.

It was not like Kurt was  _trying_ to seduce Blaine. That would be wildly inappropriate. But somehow, it felt different with Blaine than with any of his other clients-and it wasn't just about age. Blaine was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, more or less, except for times when his upper arm strength failed him and he slipped (Kurt had him doing strength exercises that were helping on this front). Blaine's real problem lay in his confidence. The fact that he was opening up to Kurt was wonderful but Kurt knew that Blaine shouldn't be cooped up alone in his house every day. He should be in school, with friends, anything. He knew in his heart Blaine could live a happier life if he just had confidence in himself-if he only knew how awesome he was, inside and out, working legs or no.

Now, Kurt liked to wear tight pants anyway, so he didn't consider it servicing Blaine in any way. He just figured that Blaine was a special case, who would appreciate Kurt's casual apparel. And Blaine deserved it, so Kurt went all out.

"I like this song," Kurt said one day, turning on the radio. Blaine was in his chair, reading a magazine lazily. "Hey, do you want to help me out with something, Blaine, dear?"

"Sure."

"Well, see, I want to be a star. I think it's my destiny. But I'm a little rusty nowadays, and I need some constructive criticism on my dancing."

"Oh." Blaine put the magazine down.

"So just watch me, okay?"

Blaine nodded, and Kurt started to shake his ass. He pulsed and swayed to the music, hoping vaguely that Mrs. Anderson wasn't about to come home early on this particular day. As the song came to an end, Kurt sat crossed legged on the floor and looked up at Blaine expectantly. "I'm a little out of shape nowadays," Kurt said, out-of-breath. "You should have seen me in my heyday."

"Heyday?" Blaine said hazily. He shook his head. "No. No. You're a star. It's destiny. It has to be," he babbled.

Kurt smiled joyously, and stood, walking over to Blaine's chair. "Thank you sweetie. And hey, even if I never make it to Broadway, maybe I could be a stripper," he said sarcastically, clasping Blaine's shoulder's suggestively all the same. "I could practice lap dances on you."

Blaine made a noise that was a mixture of a giggle and a snort. "Uh," he said. "Do you flirt with all of the poor people you work with?"

Kurt crossed over and sat in the chair opposite of Blaine, shaking his head slowly, a small smile upturning his lips playfully. "Nope. Just you. Hey, a working man has got to have fun sometimes right?" Blaine nodded, smiling still, despite the blush crossing his face. "You'd tell me if I cross a line? I consider it my job to make sure you're comfortable."

"No. Yes. I'm definitely comfortable. Don't stop. I mean-" He shut his eyes in embarrassment. "You don't make me uncomfortable."

"Good to hear it."

"Kurt, can I ask you something personal?"

"Go ahead, sweetie."

"Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

Kurt smiled and shrugged sadly. "Never a boyfriend, but I've had… _boys_." He crinkled his nose at the memory of his disappointing sexual history. "How about you?"

Blaine shook his head, absent mindedly dancing his fingers against the wheels of his chair.

"That's what I figured. You don't get flirted with nearly as much as you deserve to be flirted with, Blaine Anderson."

"Kurt-don't…just because you feel sorry for me…"

"I don't feel sorry for you," Kurt said sharply. "I like you and I want you to be happy. You're my friend."

"Oh," Blaine said softly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I hope you feel the same way about me."

"I do," Blaine said even softer, his voice trembling slightly.

"Good." Kurt eyed the pillow that was sitting next to him on the sofa and knocked it swiftly to the ground. "Oops!" He made sure to take his time bending over to pick it up.

* * *

One morning, the traffic on the way to Blaine's house was surprisingly light, and Kurt made it about twenty minutes earlier than he usually did, catching Mrs. Anderson just as she was about to walk out the door.

"Oh, good morning, Kurt. Blaine's still in bed, but you're welcome to go wake him up if you want."

Kurt shrugged. "I'll let him sleep for a while, I suppose."

Mrs. Anderson smiled a halfhearted, distracted smile, and then mumbled something about a million things to do today and goodbye.

Kurt fidgeted around the kitchen for a while, waiting for Blaine to wake up on his own, but after about 10 minutes he decided to wake him up. "All right. Time to help me with breakfast, lazy boy," Kurt said softly to himself as he made his way to Blaine's bedroom.

The door was open just a sliver, so that when Kurt knocked, it popped open. From inside, Kurt heard Blaine saying his name softly, so without a word, he walked in to greet him. Blaine was sitting at the head of his bed, naked from the waist down, his cock flushed red in his fist. His eyes were clenched shut as his fist moved frantically up and down, and if Kurt were thinking straight, he'd turn around and leave without making a sound. Instead, he yelled.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry."

Blaine's eyes popped open and he grabbed his comforter to cover himself. Kurt still didn't move from his spot in the doorway. "I'll leave," he said, standing still.

"Okay.  _Leave_." Blaine's voice was high pitched and scratchy like an adolescent's.

Kurt turned bright pink and shot out of the room, firmly shutting the door and breathing for what felt like the first time in minutes. "Take your time," he said to the door dumbly. "I'm going to make breakfast."

Kurt took his time making more food then the two of them could possibly eat. He hoped Mrs. Anderson wasn't planning on using any of the eggs in the fridge, because making a gigantic, gourmet omelet was the only thing he could do to stop himself from feeling like the biggest asshole on planet earth. When he was finished cooking, Blaine still hadn't come out. Kurt sighed and resigned himself to going back to the room and talking to him. He couldn't do his job if he embarrassed his client so much he couldn't leave his bedroom.

This time, he made sure the door was shut before knocking, which he did twice before Blaine called out, "What?"

"Breakfast's ready."

"I'm not that hungry."

"You should eat anyway. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

There was a long pause. "What if I have a stomach bug and I throw up everywhere?"

"I'll clean it up."

"That's not in your job description."

"It actually is. There's an entire clause in all of my contracts about bodily messes."

"That's not funny."

"I know. Can I come in?" Blaine didn't respond. "Blaine, please. I just want to talk to you for a second and then I'll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you want me to."

"Fine. Come in."

Cautiously, Kurt entered. Blaine was dressed and in his chair, sitting in the corner of his room closest to the window. "Hey," Kurt said gently. He sat on the bed. "I'm sorry about barging in like that before." Blaine was looking at the floor intently. Kurt took a deep breath and smiled. "But, hey, let's be grown men about this. I masturbated this morning too. It's a great way to start the day. And I made an omelet. I don't want to blow my own horn or anything, but I make an amazing omelet and you're going to be glad you ate some."

Sometime between the words "blow" and "horn", Blaine looked up at Kurt's face again. He shrugged. "Okay. I'll try some."

Kurt smiled and got up to push Blaine into the kitchen. He was glad that conversation was over with, even if it was a million times harder for Blaine than it was for him-even without mentioning that it was Kurt's name Blaine had been moaning.

* * *

After that, Blaine seemed to return to his old, shy self. It didn't help that Mrs. Anderson was now asking Kurt to help Blaine with things he had always done by himself, like taking baths and getting dressed in the morning.

"Look, Kurt, he can hardly tie his shoes," she said one morning. Blaine's face flushed and he looked down at himself. It was true. They were somewhat sloppily tied, but Kurt didn't think that had anything to do with Blaine's ability. "Don't be embarrassed, sweetie, it's Kurt's job to help you," she added.

Kurt shifted uncomfortably. "Of course, it's my job to help. It's my job to help Blaine live as independently as possible." Kurt hated himself in that moment. Even without looking, he could feel Blaine's betrayed eyes on him.

"Right. Well. Do your job a little better, please, Kurt. Do what I'm paying you to do," Mrs. Anderson said stiffly. She grabbed her purse and made her way out of the house.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said, just as Blaine started to speak.

"She's right," he said. "I've fallen twice this week. I'm…" He didn't finish his sentence.

"You've only been in the chair for two years, Blaine, it takes adjustments-"

"Why is it taking so long?"

"You fight your own body," Kurt said softly. "Anyway, it's not a big deal."

"It is. I don't want to be treated like a baby. I'm a grown man."

"I know  _that_ , silly." Kurt smirked slightly in a way that he hoped Blaine would notice, even though the walk-in incident from a few weeks ago was not something either one of them ventured to discuss again. "Come on. Let's go take a bath. I'll show you. I'm not going to treat you like a baby."

Blaine was tense when the got in the bathroom. Kurt stood behind him and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Relax. I'm going to take care of you. As a friend." He grabbed onto Blaine's shoulder and rubbed, lightly, as if he were a masseuse, and then slowly began to lift up Blaine's t-shirt. Blaine raised his arms hesitantly and allowed Kurt to pull the shirt off of him. Gently, Kurt placed his hands on Blaine's bare shoulders.

"Uh, I can do my pants myself," Blaine said, his voice shaking slightly. He opened his eyes again and quickly unbuttoned his pants, pushing them off, the entire time with Kurt's hands still on him. Blaine looked down at himself in his boxers, and Kurt lifted his hands, busying himself by starting the water.

"Don't be shy," Kurt said, testing the temperature of the water with his fingers. "Not to bring it up again, but I've already seen it."

"That's true," Blaine said, sighing slightly. "God, my life is pathetic."

"No, I was impressed. A lot of men would envy what you're working with, sweetie. Now, we're all boys here, so…"

"Fine.  _God_. But only because it's you. I swear to god."

"I'm glad you think so highly of me…"

Blaine blushed. "I trust you, that's all." He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and pushed his boxers down. Kurt made sure to catch a glimpse before Blaine opened his eyes again, looking away tactfully once he did. Blaine struggled slightly getting the shorts past his knees. Without a word, Kurt took them, lifting Blaine's legs and pulling them the rest of the way down, throwing them aside and checking on the water before Blaine had a chance to be embarrassed.

"Now, let's commence that bath," Kurt said casually, lifting Blaine up from his chair. Kurt had always thought Blaine was cute, but that was the first time he felt acute attraction to the boy, their bodies close together, Blaine in such a vulnerable position, his "I trust you" still ringing in Kurt's ears.

Once Blaine was successfully under the water, Kurt got out the shampoo and squeezed some into his hands.

"What are you doing?" Blaine asked.

"I'm going to wash your hair."

Blaine groaned. "You said you weren't going to treat me like a baby. I have working arms, you know."

"I know," Kurt sang. "I just want to get my hands in that beautiful hair. Can I?"

"Fine," Blaine said softly, and Kurt began to work a lather into Blaine's scalp. It went on for what seemed like a long time, but Kurt didn't want to stop. He could feel Blaine relax under his hands.

"Bend a little," Kurt said, and Blaine titled so that his head was closer to the water. "Close your eyes." Slowly and lovingly, Kurt rinsed the suds out of Blaine's hair until it was perfectly clean and wet. When Blaine opened his eyes again, he was noticeably more calm than when he entered the bathroom. "Do you have anywhere else that requires cleaning right now?" Kurt asked sweetly.

Blaine shook his head vehemently. "No. I'm good. That was nice, though. Thank you."

Kurt absent mindedly traced his fingers on Blaine's bare shoulders. "Handsome," he said, in a voice just above a whisper. "You ready to get out?"

"Yeah," Blaine said, his voice low and unsure. Kurt pulled the plug from the tub and looked Blaine over briefly. He didn't want to make Blaine uncomfortable but the energy in the room had changed and part of him couldn't resist - Blaine's body was gorgeous. And from the looks of it, it had responded favorably to Kurt's touch.

"Oh, hello," Kurt said, looking fixedly at Blaine's erection. He never knew what to do in these situations.

"Oh god," Blaine said, looking down at his lap and realizing his state for the first time. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"No, don't apologize. It's all good," Kurt said.

Blaine shut his eyes and shrunk slightly in his spot in the tub. "Every day before you come over I say, don't embarrass yourself in front of Kurt, Blaine. He's a nice guy, Blaine. Don't make a total ass out of yourself, Blaine!"

"Aw!" Kurt laughed, and Blaine shot him an angry look. "I'm not laughing at you, but you're so adorable, I can't help it."

"I'm not adorable! I'm pathetic."

"Oh, sweetheart. You're a normal young man, that's all."

Blaine eyed him sadly. "I wish."

Kurt gave Blaine's shoulder a comforting squeeze, noticing out of the corner of his eye that the issue at hand had gone down already, and the water had completely drained. "Come on, I'll dry you off."

"No, please, let me do it myself."

"I can't let you get out of the tub by yourself again, Blaine, your mom will kill me."

"Okay. Just. Let me dry myself off first."

"Okay," Kurt said, handing him a towel and turning away.

* * *

They decided to spend the afternoon watching movies, as Blaine had fallen into another one of his sulks and didn't feel like doing anything that required talking. Kurt made himself comfortable on the couch, Blaine's chair on the side, next to him.

Halfway through the movie, Kurt yawned, lay back and spread out on the couch. Blaine eyed him slightly but then looked away, blushing, back at the movie.

Blaine didn't look back again until he noticed Kurt's long leg stretched out in front of him, his toes poking Blaine's thigh delicately. Blaine looked down at his lap and laughed. "I can't feel that, you know."

"I know," Kurt said. He pulled his leg back and sat up, curling both of his legs under him. "This movie is boring, though. Can I sit on your lap?"

Blaine laughed. "What?"

"Can I sit in your lap?" Blaine looked at him, perplexed. "You can give me a ride around the house. It'll be like in Aladdin, except instead of a magic carpet ride, it's a magic wheelchair ride."

"Are you high? My mom will be super pissed if my caretaker is high."

Kurt batted his eyelashes. "I just thought it'd be fun, that's all."

"Well, if sitting on my lap is your idea of fun, knock yourself out."

* * *

Ten minutes later, they hit a wall.

"Fuck," Blaine laughed. "It's a lot harder wheeling this thing around with your weight added."

"I hope you're not calling me fat," Kurt said, shifting playfully and tightening his grip on Blaine's neck. They both moved their heads at the same time, so that now they were looking one another in the eye, their faces practically touching.

Blaine cleared his throat. "No. You're perfect," he whispered.

Kurt was about to open his mouth when a car door slammed outside. "Shit," he said. "That's your mom." He slid off Blaine's lap and straightened out his clothes.

This time he felt it more tactful to pretend not to notice that Blaine was hard again.

* * *

It was a regular occurrence. At first Blaine apologized every time, and Kurt laughed it off, until they both started laughing it off, and then they just ignored it, because it was bound to happen.

"You need to get laid," Kurt said off-handedly one day when he was helping Blaine into his jeans.

"Yeah. No kidding," Blaine said with a shrug.

Kurt sighed and adjusted Blaine's bowtie affectionately. "Me too, to be honest. Too bad I work for you."

Blaine's eyes lingered on Kurt's face but Kurt looked away and pretended he hadn't said anything, which he had been doing a lot. But Blaine apparently didn't want to end the conversation just yet. Boldly, he sat up straighter. "You must be seeing someone," he said.

Kurt smiled and shook his head. "I don't meet a lot of gay guys in Lima, as shocking as that is." He sighed and sat down. "I can't wait to get out of here. But I've been waiting so long…"

"It feels like it might never happen?"

"Yeah."

"That's kind of how I feel about me ever getting laid," Blaine laughed, his smile tinged with sadness.

"Oh,  _Blaine._ You just need to get out there! You're amazing." Blaine rolled his eyes. "I'm serious. I spend more time with you than anybody else and I'm crazy about you."

"Please. We both know you only….flirt with me-"

"I flirt? Oh, I didn't realize…"

"Stop. You're a gigantic flirt and you know it."

Kurt grinned, his eyes gleaming. "Only with boys I like."

"Kurt, seriously. Stop." Kurt's face fell. "You only flirt with me because you feel sorry for me but I actually-I actually…"

"What?"

"I really like you," Blaine mumbled. "And you're getting  _paid_  to be here. How sad is that?"

Kurt was silent for a moment, trying to figure out what he could possibly say to make Blaine believe him. He realized there was nothing to say. No matter what, Blaine would never believe that someone could really be attracted to him. Instead of trying, Kurt sank to his knees.

"What are you-"

Kurt, with a look of determination, reached for the zipper of Blaine's jeans and Blaine, with a final, "oh," of surprise, got quiet. Kurt quickly pulled his cock out, still half-hard from when Kurt was dressing him earlier, and within seconds, his mouth sunk down on it, enveloping it entirely.

"Oh my god," Blaine groaned, throwing his head back, and Kurt began to suck him, bobbing his head back up and down with varying speeds. Kurt hadn't given anyone a blowjob in years, but Blaine was so starved for affection, he seemed to be loving every minute of it. He could feel Blaine bracing, about to come, so he pulled back slightly, lightly mouthing at the head of his cock as Blaine whimpered above him.

"You taste good," Kurt said gruffly, giving it another kiss and a small, darting lick.

Blaine didn't respond. He moaned brokenly and grabbed at Kurt's hair, pushing him down slightly. Kurt smirked and took his cock as deep as he could, sucking with as much speed as he could muster. "Oh my god, Kurt, oh my god, I…" With another wordless moan Blaine was coming down Kurt's throat, covering his mouth with his thick come.

Licking Blaine's cock clean, Kurt looked up. "That's how much I like you," he hummed.

"Wow," Blaine said. "So that was a blowjob. Wow. Okay."

Kurt smiled and gently put Blaine's cock back in his pants. He sat on Blaine lap and nuzzled his neck. "Your innocence really turns me on."

"Could you say that again?"

Kurt kissed his neck. Between kisses, he whispered. "You-really-turn-me-on."

"Kurt," Blaine said softly. "I'm kind of at a loss for words right now." He smiled sweetly and Kurt couldn't help but kiss him, softly, on the lips.

"You can touch me if you want to."

"Oh!" Blaine looked down and Kurt's lap, noticing for the first time how hard he was in his tight pants. "I'm sorry, you must think I'm so selfish."

"No," Kurt laughed, planting a kiss in Blaine's hair. "Just a virgin."

* * *

Completely naked, Kurt crossed the bedroom slowly, making sure to swing his hips with as much intention as possible. Blaine, naked and waiting, palmed his cock, a nervous expression on his face.

"Don't look so terrified, sweetie, this is the best day of your life," Kurt said.

"That's true."

Kurt smiled and handed Blaine the small bottle of lube before climbing on his chair, balancing himself with one knee on either side of Blaine's lap, so that Blaine was eye-level with his bare chest. Kurt lowered his hands, almost as an offering, and Blaine squeezed some of the lube out. "It's this easy," Kurt said, taking his slick hand and rubbing his hole with it. "You're big, though, so we'll need a lot of this stuff."

"Don't flatter me."

"You're supposed to flatter the people you sleep with. I forget how much you have to learn."

Blaine laughed sheepishly and eyed Kurt, who was now slowly fingering himself, with a mixture of awe and uncontrollable desire.

Kurt thrust two of his fingers in deeper than before, then panted, holding onto Blaine's shoulder with his free hand for support. "Your parents can never find out about this. Promise?"

"Why would I tell my parents about this?"

Kurt closed his eyes and crooked his fingers slightly. "Oh-Oh. I don't know. I could lose my job, though. Not that it matters. I'll be out of here soon. New York." He pulled his fingers out and Blaine stared at him sadly. "You can come with me."

Blaine smiled and gave a sad shrug. "Me? New York? I don't know."

"Oh, why not? You know I'm good at taking care of you. You could go to school. Support me when I go on auditions. Be my man," Kurt said with a sexy smirk and Blaine laughed.

"That sounds nice."

They kissed sweetly. Kurt sucked on Blaine's bottom lip and Blaine lifted his hands to grab Kurt's ass. Kurt swayed slightly, smiling into the kiss. "You're amazing," Blaine said softly. Kurt responded by handing Blaine the forgotten bottle and waiting as Blaine lubed himself up, moaning at his own touch. "You ready to go, tiger?" Kurt asked, his voice smoky and low.

Blaine's voice trembled slightly but there was no doubt that Kurt could detect. "I'm so ready. Holy fuck."

Kurt kissed Blaine's neck tenderly as he eased himself down on his cock. "Oh, that's it, right there," he mumbled brokenly when Blaine was fully inside his ass. "That feels good," he said, and Blaine tightened his grip on his waist just as he began to rock.

Balancing himself with his hands on Blaine's knees, Kurt started out with a slow, sensual rhythm. Then, he pulled himself closer so that their chests were touching, and Blaine was holding onto him gently as he lifted himself, up and down, painfully slow on Blaine's cock.

"Oh, Kurt…."

With a menacing grin Kurt sped up without warning, riding Blaine with abandon. Blaine's chair shook violently and with a final shout, Blaine came inside him. Kurt moaned and pressed his lips against Blaine's hair. "Mmm…I can feel your come inside me."

Blaine moaned and clung to Kurt with one hand, the other sliding in between them to pump Kurt to climax.

For a while they were quiet. "I'm gonna get up and stretch a little," Kurt said. Blaine nodded and watched Kurt leave the chair.

"I hope my chair wasn't too cramped for sex," Blaine said apologetically.

"No," Kurt said. "I liked it. It kind of sexy, actually. But now I think it's time for your bath, and if you don't mind, I'd like to join you."

"I don't mind."

Blaine reached out and grabbed Kurt's hand, and for a brief moment, they both stared down at their fingers clasped together, until Blaine pulled away and let Kurt push him towards the bathtub.


End file.
